


Bring On the White Jacket

by greenmage128



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [20]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 22:13:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2484179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenmage128/pseuds/greenmage128
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gadreel is in need of a job, and it turns out Chuck has just the thing. It's all very… convenient.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring On the White Jacket

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted October 8, 2014. A companion piece to [Love At First Spit-Take](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2452166), because this AU kind of got away from me. Oops?

Chuck was hunched over his closed laptop, head resting on the top, when Gadreel came inside to take a break. 

“You’re awake? It’s not even noon,” Gadreel said. 

“‘Awake’ is a very subjective term.” Chuck didn’t bother lifting his head, though he did manage a wave. 

Gadreel went into the kitchen and retrieved two glasses of water and some aspirin, setting one of the cups and the pills on Chuck’s desk. 

He finally looked up, groaning when he saw the gifts, like they were manna from Heaven. “You’re an angel, Gad.” 

A smile crossed Gadreel’s face. “You would be the first to think so.” He sat down on the couch, a stack of papers falling from the cushion next to him as he did. Chuck waved a dismissive hand, so Gadreel let it go. “I never did thank you for the job, however. You didn’t have to do this.” 

“What are friends for?” Chuck reached for a half-empty glass of whiskey on the far side of his desk but as he reached seemed to think better of it. “Besides the garden was looking a little… run-down.” 

Gadreel raised an eyebrow, glancing at the backyard through the sliding glass patio door. “I’m not sure that pile of weeds has ever qualified as a garden, Chuck.” 

The writer gave him a sheepish smile. “Caught me, but it just sucks that you have to deal with this. What Luke did was a dick move.” 

“I shouldn’t have taken the job without a back up plan. I knew who he was,” Gadreel said, shrugging and trying not to think about it. If he never heard the name Luke Milton again, it would be too soon. 

“Still, it’s not fair. Not that life ever is, but.” Chuck was quiet for a moment before firing up his laptop. He drummed his fingers against the surface of his desk as it loaded. “You know, I do have an idea though.” 

The word “no” was all too quick to come to Gadreel’s lips, because he’d had enough of Chuck’s hare-brained schemes to last a lifetime, but he stopped himself. Perhaps this would work, and even if it didn’t, it wasn’t like Gadreel had much to lose these days. “What is it?” 

Chuck was biting down a grin, he could tell. “My publisher, Crowley. He mentioned a couple weeks ago that he was looking for a landscaper. Wonder if the position is still open.” 

“And I’m sure he’s heard all about me from Luke,” Gadreel said, because he knew a too good to be true deal when he heard it. 

“That’s just it.” Chuck tapped out a few commands on his laptop and turned back to Gadreel. “He doesn’t take orders from Luke. Not that Luke didn’t try to buy him off, but Crowley wouldn’t take the money.” 

Somehow that sent up a red flag in Gadreel’s brain. “That was honorable of him.” 

The printer next to Chuck came to life and started spitting out what appeared to be a photo. “He’s an honorable kind of guy, sort of. Helps when you’re filthy rich.” 

Gadreel smiled, because that seemed a far more likely scenario, and it explained how Chuck got to keep publishing books, even though his sales were abysmal. He got up and grabbed up the picture as soon as it finished. “Is this the place?” 

“Yep, and that’s just the front.”

The house was gorgeous, and if the scale of the image was anything to go by, the grounds were huge. Everything about the job seemed ideal, but Gadreel had to ask. “Why hasn’t he hired anyone before now, then?” 

Chuck was a little less enthusiastic after that question. “Well, he can be difficult. Mostly he’s just particular, but his partner, well…” 

“Partner?” Gadreel asked, curious. “Business partner or—”

“Boyfriend,” Chuck said. He frowned. “With Crowley you’ve just got to pay attention to every detail, but Gabriel… Just never let him out of your sight, all right? And dear God, don’t trust him with your food.” 

If he’d been any less desperate, that might’ve put him off. “I think I can handle it,” Gadreel said. “Besides, I need the job. Abner’s going to kill me if he has to put up my half of the rent again.” 

“All right, if you insist.” Chuck retrieved his phone from under yet another messy pile of papers. “I’ll set everything up with Crowley.”

* * *

Gadreel should’ve known there would be a catch. What Chuck had failed to mention was that Crowley and Gabriel were gorgeous. Never before could Gadreel say that he was attracted to a voice, but Crowley’s smooth-rough British accent was a top contender for the prize, and Gabriel made even a spit-take look adorable, even when the results were all over Gadreel’s most expensive shirt. Worse, he was positive Crowley was flirting with him the entire time, though it was Gabriel who scrambled for a napkin to scribble their numbers onto.

And maybe Gadreel couldn’t resist such a blatant offer. Smiles came easy in their presence, and he had to force himself to end the meeting before he did something he would regret. Attractive clients he was used to (hell, Luke was probably the most beautiful man he’d ever met), but they were… something else. They drew him in, fascinated him, and the reverse seemed to be true, just a hint of maybe something more dangling in the air as they spoke.

But that was crazy. Correction, that was insane, and impossible conclusion to draw after a forty-five minute meeting where most of the conversation consisted of what plants could survive the California summer without draining the Los Angeles water supply.

When he got home, he relayed the story to Abner, who listened to the entire thing stone-faced. Gadreel almost called him out on not listening.

“You’re right. It is crazy.”

Gadreel raised an eyebrow. “I’m sensing a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”

“But,” Abner shot him a look, “I’ve also never seen you this happy, and you’ve only just met the guys.” He took Gadreel’s phone from his hands, where he’d been hovering over Crowley’s number with the intent of passing up on the job, and put it on its charger. “I suggest you sleep on it before deciding to throw away so much potential over a little risk.”

“It’s more than just a little risk, Abner,” Gadreel said, leaning back in his seat. “One wrong move and this could all end very badly. For them, for me, for everyone.”

“Sleep on it.”

“But—”

“Just do it.”

And he did, mostly to get his roommate to shut up, though it might’ve been a mistake, because that gave him time to think, and by morning he knew what he had to do, because his heart (among other things) gave him no other choice.

Gadreel texted Crowley as soon as he woke up, not even waiting for a reasonable hour.

“Free to discuss details today?”

Crowley’s response was prompt, as though he’d been waiting. Gadreel tried not to think about that. “Took you long enough. Gate code is 9409. Come over whenever you’re ready.”

With a quick apology to Chuck, who didn’t seem surprised to get the call, Gadreel was up and dressed and on the road within the hour. Insanity should not have been such an attractive option.


End file.
